


Has Me by Its Teeth

by writinwaters (Anithene)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 07:04:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4819736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anithene/pseuds/writinwaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could wake like this for a thousand lifetimes and never be satisfied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Has Me by Its Teeth

He could wake like this for a thousand lifetimes and never be satisfied.

He wakes to find her sucking his cock, slurping, sloppy, her marked hand cupping his testicles, the other between her legs. Her eyes smile up at him, and she pulls off him with one last  _suck_ , a thread of his seed and her saliva trailing after her mouth.

It’s not the first time he’s awoken like this, and though there are no longer gods to hear him, he prays it won’t be the last.

“Good morning,” she says, all breath and fire, banked heat burning just beneath her skin. Her hair is in wonderful disarray, her lips shining, flushed like her cheeks. 

“Indeed,” Solas husks, barely able to concentrate; she is so beautiful, with the sunlight pouring across her naked body, catching her hair like fire, like gold, and he buries his hands in it, pulls her up his body to lay eager kisses across her face. 

Lavellan laughs, sweet, dark like storm clouds, rubbing her breasts against his chest, and he shoves his thigh between her legs as payment, grinding up against the slick wet heat of her cunt. She gasps, nails scrabbling against his shoulders, kicking the sheets away in her frenzy, rolls her hips into the press of his thigh and  _moans_.

He is achingly hard now, so that each pulse of his heartbeat throbs in his ears, his cock trapped between her belly and his, her skin sweat-slick, shining, beautiful. “Solas,” her eyelids flutter, her tongue peeking out from between her teeth, her brow sweetly furrowed. His hands glide down her back, across her hips, seizing her ass in each hand, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, and she’s moaning again, rocking against him so hard the headboard begins to clamor against the wall. 

Without preamble she presses her wet fingers between his lips, and he, unable to deny her any request, parts them eagerly and sucks them like she had sucked his cock. She’s saying something but he can’t hear it beyond the pulse in his ears, her taste in his mouth, the smell of her choking him, a riptide of warmth and feeling, just  _feeling_ , of her, her, her.

He shouts when her other hand wraps around him, hard enough to spring white pain behind his eyelids, to which she only smiles, wicked, joyous, giggles like a girl on her wedding night, though there is nothing innocent about her, this woman who has plucked the heart of a god from his chest.

“Fuck me.”

A smile tips the corners of his lips. “I would taste you first, as you have tasted me.”

She rises, back arched as she stretches, arms above her head, the long fall of her hair tumbling down her back. He stops breathing. 

“No,” she smiles.

The lips of her sex tease the head of his cock, and he thrusts up, mindless, a strangled moan bursting from his throat. “Vhenan,” he begs, actually begs, his hands trembling where they grasp her hips.  She smooths her palms down his chest, soothing, only to dig her nails into him on the upward stroke. He swears an ancient oath, but she laughs as if she understood it.

“You may taste me on your fingers,” her eyes glimmer in the sunlight, her teeth a dazzle of soft white. 

He kisses her, shoves his tongue in her mouth at the same time as his fingers enter her, and she writhes in his lap, her teeth sinking into his lower lip. She’s wet enough that he adds a third finger without preparation, all the way to the knuckles. She grinds herself on his hand, his palm rubbing her clit, she groans, sighs, whimpers when he lets a lick of of lighting arc against her thighs, chokes his name when a touch of fire kisses her nipples.

His other hand finds her throat, thumb pressed into the fluttering jugular, her voice breaking on an obscene whine, a chant of  _yes_  and  _more._

She comes like that, with his fingers crooked inside her cunt,  his other hand wrapped around her throat, and all he can think is  _beautiful,_ as she trembles and gasps his name, as he brings her over the edge a second time, her nails drawing blood as she rakes them down his arms.

Solas gives her a moment to breathe. Just one.

And he has her on her back, head pushed into the luxuriant pillows, spreading her knees with his thighs, watching her face as he pushes into her. The first stroke is slow agony, pulls a ragged moan from his lips, her legs closing around his waist, heels digging into his ass and he thrusts again, harder, smiles when her back arches clear off the bed.

Her breasts are an easy, tempting target, gooseflesh erupting across them as he takes a nipple into his mouth, rolls it against his tongue, pulls with his teeth until she’s writhing madly beneath him. 

He doesn’t notice her fingers until they’re pressed against the sensitive path of skin behind his testicles, his toes curling in delight, and her smile is victorious, smug, the cat who got both the canary and the cream. His next thrust is so rough it pushes her up the bed, bangs the headboard against the wall so violently a vase on her dresser shatters on the floor.

“Harder,” she breathes, throat bared to him, shoulders back, meeting each of his thrusts with a sigh or a curse, and he can do nothing but obey, his hands tangling in her hair, his teeth finding the tender juncture of her jaw and biting, fucking her harder, faster, until she’s screaming obscenities in his ear, until she comes again with his teeth in her shoulder, her hands like claws on the small of his back.

He can’t tell if he sighs her name or screams it when he comes, rutting against her like an animal, sweat pouring all down his body. She cradles his head in her arms as he falls against her, her hips rolling to meet him, her lips pressed against the blade of his ear.

She’s humming something, like a lullaby, the tune simple, warms all the hallow places in his bones. He blinks up at her, smiling, pressing his forehead against hers, her hair sticking to her cheeks. She keeps humming, her foot tracing lazy circles against his calf, her heart thrumming against his chest.

“Good morning,” he says, and means it.


End file.
